


Gronder Trail

by unrivaled_tapestry



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Western, Cowboys, M/M, Smoking, Zine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:14:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28438212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unrivaled_tapestry/pseuds/unrivaled_tapestry
Summary: “Yes, I mean. No. It’s...nice to see you, but I did want to talk to you about something.” Dimitri took a long puff on his cigarette and brushed gray ashes away from the surface of the molasses-dark table under his hand. “I’m bossing a herd up Gronder Trail, starting two weeks from now. Five-hundred head of cattle. Three months. Food included. Board is a bedroll and your saddle. I’ve got a crew, but I need a second I can trust to scout ahead and be smart about it.”
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Dedue Molinaro
Comments: 2
Kudos: 24





	Gronder Trail

**Author's Note:**

> I'm finally able to post this fic! I had the honor of writing Dimidue cowboys for @CHERISHEDZINE (Dimidue fanzine). This was my very very first zine piece for this fandom, and I had such an awesome experience working on it. Thank you so much to the mods for giving me a chance, and for Nuanta for beta'ing this fic for me while we were going through the creation phase.
> 
> Warnings for this one are pretty light: there's a little bit of smoking and drinking in the beginning, as well as a reference to injuries. The world is Western-inspired, but is specifically set in Fodlan (therefore does not share any history or events with US-based westerns).

Before the season started, they’d met in a saloon in the town of Myrddin, in Alliance unincorporated territory. The town’s watering hole of choice rested in the shadow of a small chapel on a green hill across the street, littered with carved stone markers and a handful of fresh graves. Below, life went on. Carts rolled by and horses on hitching posts outside snorted into their water trough while men wandered in to get a drink.

He hadn’t seen Dedue in five years, not since leaving him in a bed at the military hospital in Fhirdiad, saying he wanted to fight even as laudanum slurred his words and doctors picked out bits of metal from a mortar shell that, by all means, should have killed Dimitri.

Dimitri lost an eye; Dedue nearly lost everything. He’d wanted to stay at Dedue’s side, more than anything, but joining the rest of their class in the field had to come first.

“It’s hard work,” Dimitri had said. “Paying respects to the dead.”

“They don’t make the best company, but digging graves doesn’t bother me,” Dedue replied, taking a sip. “I’m hoping to get enough money to travel west. Maybe set up a homestead out by Dagda.” Dedue leaned further over his elbows. “Unless I have a reason to do something else?”

Dimitri’s breath hitched in his throat at the question. The scarf tied around his throat seemed weighty, like it had turned to lead in a second, and his fresh shirt felt tight against his chest. When he’d come to Myrddin, he didn’t know if Dedue had set up a life there, if he’d even want to leave it for a man that left him behind. Across the table, Dedue watched him carefully, like he always did, with eyes that knew Dimitri better than he knew himself. He tried to remember he was here for business, not because he’d missed that easy understanding.

“Yes, I mean. No. It’s...nice to see you, but I did want to talk to you about something.” Dimitri took a long puff on his cigarette and brushed gray ashes away from the surface of the molasses-dark table under his hand. “I’m bossing a herd up Gronder Trail, starting two weeks from now. Five-hundred head of cattle. Three months. Food included. Board is a bedroll and your saddle. I’ve got a crew, but I need a second I can trust to scout ahead and be smart about it.”

“It doesn’t sound too different from being a soldier,” Dedue replied, running his thumb over the sturdy rim of his glass. “And you’re offering me the job?”

Dimitri cast his eye down, hoping that disguised how much he wanted Dedue to say yes. “There’s no one I’d trust more.”

“It is good to see you, Captain,” Dedue had said, half into the glass of whiskey held gingerly in his hand, almost hiding the slight, sly smile pulling at his lips. A day’s sweat and grime from the churchyard still clung to the creases of his skin. “When do I start?”

Dimitri offered a smile that didn’t touch the depth of his relief. “We start in two weeks at the trailhead in Fort Merceus.”

2 Months Later

The plaintive sound of steers calling out to each other could be heard from the day’s camp. Dimitri might as well have just climbed out of his own grave in a dry, cracked Duscurian churchyard for all the dirt that poured off of him as he dismounted in front of the remuda. A chain of horses down the line flickered their ears in greeting to Dimitri’s gelding, a sooty buckskin so coated in dust that his charcoal markings looked as bright as his silvery-tan shoulders. Dimitri tore off his scarf and knocked his worn leather hat violently against filthy shotgun chaps, which released even more dust into the air.

“You know,” Sylvain said, tipping up his own hat in greeting, “the trail boss doesn’t usually have to ride drag. I’d think that was the point of being, you know, the boss.”

Dimitri took a few deep swigs from the canteen strapped to his saddle before placing it back in his bag. “Come now, Sylvain. The boss is exactly the person who should ride drag, same as everyone else.”

Sylvain sighed and patted the gelding’s rump, releasing another puff of dust into the bright sun as a gentle breeze blew loose dirt into their pant legs and shirts. This was hard territory. Just a few months ago it had been green and grassy, but the recent drought took its toll. Of course his first drive in charge was during the driest season on record.

Working his hands under the gelding’s cinch, Sylvain stepped in, planting a broad palm on Dimitir’s shoulder. “Hey, I’ll unsaddle. Why don’t you go get some food?”

Running a hand through his hair, Dimitri relented. “All right, but be sure to grab some food yourself?”

Sylvain gave Dimitri a sloppy salute in response, a mockery of their days in Rhea’s military. As Dimitri left, Sylvain’s hands started making quick work of the latigo.

Dimitri made for the flat patch of dry ground where Ashe and Mercedes had set up the chuck and supply wagons. Ingrid sat at the edge of camp with her jeans rolled up and a nasty, thin cut on her calf. Mercedes stood over her, dabbing a cloth over the cut to clean it. A pile of bandages sat next to her.

Ashe already had a fire going. He stood over the suspended pot, a folded cloth in one hand and a ladle in the other. As he saw Dimitri approaching, he tucked the cloth under the belt of his apron.

“Mr. Blaiddyd,” he greeted. “Lunch is almost ready.”

“Ashe, we talked about this. You can just call me Dimitri.” He brushed away the sweaty bangs from over his eye.

“S-sorry,” Ashe said, sputtering over the word.

Dimitri gestured over to the supply wagon. “What happened to Ingrid?”

“She was going after a stray in the brush and ran along an old fence. Caught her leg on a nail.” Ashe cringed. “Mercedes is looking at it.”

“Good to know. I’ll tell everyone to watch out if they head that way.” Filing away the information, Dimitri crouched by the fire. “Say, where’s Dedue?”

“I don’t...know.” Ashe looked around the camp. “He was supposed to be checking in today?”

Dimitri nodded through his unease. It shouldn’t surprise him that Dedue wasn’t back from scouting yet. Although a missed rendezvous was always worrying, Dedue often stayed out a day or two longer than expected. And they _needed_ him to find water, enough to perk the cattle up and get them moving again. Not to mention the crew. “I’m sure he’s fine.”

Still, the land was treacherous—any number of hazards could catch even the most seasoned traveller off guard, especially if the man rode alone.

“I think I’m going to go ahead,” Dimitri said, tossing his little wayward stick into the pyre. He motioned up ahead. “I came this way line-riding a couple years ago. There’s a camp site up ahead. If he’s on his way back, he’ll be there.”

“Oh.” Ashe sounded surprised, concerned. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” A pause. “Do you want someone to go with you?”

Dimitri smiled, but shook his head. “You worry too much, Ashe. It’ll be light for a while yet.” Besides, he wanted to see him. “Besides, I need to know as soon as possible if he found water so we can start planning our next move.”

That part was true. They couldn’t afford a day of lost time at this rate.

Dimitri looked off to the side, to where Felix rested with his head against the tree of his saddle, a long strip of grass sticking out of his mouth. “Felix. Did you hear that? I’m going to look for Dedue after lunch.”

“I did,” Felix said, eyes still closed. “Sounds like a bad idea.”

Dimitri slapped his hands together to knock more trail off his gloves. “I’m leaving you in charge.”

“Fine. Don’t die,” Felix said blankly as Ashe scooped a helping of stew into the bowl he held, looking mortified at his tone. Some things never changed.

Dimitri took the bowl from him and found a seat near the chuck wagon as he made quick work of his lunch. However, his mind followed the road and what he might find at the end of it.

The sun painted the horizon in pastels and turned the trees into silhouettes by the time Dimitri finally saw a trail of smoke rising up ahead of him on the skyline. He covered a good distance at a lope, lazily riding between trees as the noise of the herd finally faded behind him, replaced with the sounds of a thirsty forest, the rhythm of hooves on dry ground. He didn’t mind being alone in the woods, on horseback—it was almost natural to him—but he still didn’t breathe easily until he spied smoke crawling up over the old oaks into the sky.

He saw the fire before he saw the man sitting next to it. It was a small flame kept in a stone ring by the shadow of a rock outcropping, casting an orange glow off into the woods as night finally descended. Off to the east, where the sky was darkest, Dimitri saw the first stars forming.

Dedue sat with his sheepskin coat pulled tightly around his shoulders. He glanced up at Dimitri from under the rim of his gambler, studying the shadows Dimitri came from as he dismounted and entered the ring of light. When Dedue saw Dimitri’s face, his own expression grew relaxed. Glad.

He sat off to the side a little to make room.

Dimitri strode towards that spot with the woods growing dim and dangerous, into the quiet with the chaos of the drive behind him, and into the warmth of Dedue’s smile as the night’s first chill seeped into his sweaty shirt.

“You found me.” Dedue sat further back, took another bite of the jerky in his hand. “Please, have a seat.”

“Passed this way a few years back. Figured if you were anywhere, you’d be here.” Dimitri tied his horse by Dedue’s and claimed his seat by the fire, near Dedue. His eyes fell to the bush rifle resting on Dedue’s lap. “You have any trouble?”

Dedue offered a smile, and took a sip of his coffee. “None at all. This is merely a precaution. I encountered a wildcat earlier.”

Dimitri nodded. “Do you think it’s a threat to the herd?”

After a pause, Dedue finally spoke. “No, I don’t think so. She’s just passing through. I fired a warning shot.”

“She?”

“I saw cubs.” Dedue took another bite of jerky. “I think she’s looking for water like the rest of us.”

“Did you find any?”

“I did.” Dedue gestured off to the north. “There’s a river up ahead. Two days for the drive.”

“That’s a relief.” Dimitri fell back onto the ground, rested his head on a slanted rock that looked like it had sheared clean off the sandy outcropping at some point. “Thank you, Dedue.”

“Please, tell me how things are going with the crew.” Dedue’s smile softened fondly.

In response, Dimitri let out a hard breath. He thought of the cut on Ingrid’s leg and the constant, angry disappointment in Felix’s eyes. “Not much has changed in three days. I didn’t need to bury anyone and Felix still thinks he should be leading us. Nothing unusual.”

“I disagree with Felix, though I will selfishly admit that I’m glad you’re here now.” Dedue threw another log on the fire, sending up a brilliant flurry of orange sparks. Dimitri couldn’t help but notice how brighty the flare reflected in Dedue’s green eyes. “I don’t think I ever thanked you.”

Dimitri shook his head. “It’s I who should be thanking you. Always.”

“Please, allow me to finish.” Dedue’s voice firmed. “At Myrddin I was frozen. Like something was missing, but I didn’t know what it was. I had no idea if I needed to work for it or it could be bought.”

“Life out here isn’t that much better,” Dimitri replied. “Snakes, flash floods, drought, accidents, rustlers. At least you were safe in your own bed.”

“Forgive me, I was unclear.” Dedue took a deep breath. “I have...missed being at your side. These past five years were longer than I thought. Having the opportunity to join you is a source of peace for me.”

Dimitri sat up, and his spine cracked as he crossed his arms and gazed into the fire. It reminded him of violence sometimes, though not with Dedue. Never with Dedue. “I wasn’t sure you would want to hear from me.”

“That I was not able to join me when you needed me the most is my greatest shame.” The words tumbled out rapidly, like the watershed from a burst dam.

Without thinking, Dimitri reached for Dedue’s shoulder, gripped until he felt muscles under his jacket and got those startled eyes to look at him. “Please. Not another word. I’d be dead if not for you.”

A couple things happened at once.

Dedue seemed to realize how close they were at the same time Dimitri did, his eyes dropping to the line of Dimitri’s chest and stomach against Dedue’s arm. He realized his blond hair scraped at the collar of Dedue’s worn coat. They’d been like that before, once, in a dream, what felt like a hundred years ago, constrained by cadets’ uniforms and the expectations of a society they were meant to join but never could.

His heart thundering, Dimitri loosened his grip on Dedue’s arm. Waiting for either Dedue to move away or…

Dedue leaned in by a half measure, until the rim of his hat covered Dimitri’s forehead. It blocked some of the heat from the fire even as Dimitri’s cheeks flushed to replace it. Somewhere the moon rose. A family of coyotes started yipping. The horses let out puffs of air and pawed the ground.

Without further thought, Dimitri closed the distance between them until their lips pressed together, cracked and gritty, tasting vaguely like salt and dried meat. As he did, Dedue’s body pressed further into him, as if released from some invisible barrier. His broad hands fell to Dimitri’s back, pulling lightly at the shirt tucked under his jeans and belt. Dimitri’s chest pressed into Dedue’s side, pushing up Dedue’s hat with his skull.

They pulled away. Dimitri may have been ashamed by how winded he was if Dedue wasn’t also panting, his breath catching on Dimitri’s scarf.

After a beat, eyes wide, Dedue said, “Is this okay?”

“I’ve wanted this for weeks,” Dimitri cut in, though he could easily have replaced ‘weeks’ with ‘years’.

They kissed again, and Dimitri couldn’t say who initiated it, only that the fire crackled, and first they kissed and then Dimitri ended up with his head pressed against Dedue’s chest, listening to his heartbeat until it was time to pour water over the embers. Tomorrow they would have to return to the drive, but tonight, under the stars, they could hold each other and think of beef, money, horses, a good set of boots, and the wide expanse of sky above them.


End file.
